Poggibonsi

The other day we took a bit of a field trip to an archeological site with the group to a little town not very fall away called Poggibonsi. Shortly after arriving we were informed that the site, a medieval fortress, was approximately 4+ miles away. So we began to hike. Up. and up. and up. The only thing I can say is thank the lord that Siena is hilly as well or I would have been toast. Sweaty, tired toast.
However, it is more than fair to say that the heavy breathing and aching muscles were well worth it. From the top, we had a breathtaking panoramic view of the Tuscan countryside, encompassing renaissance castles, sprawling vineyards and craggly olive groves. At the very top we could see the rolling hills all around us, a gorgeous monastery looming close by, sharing the same hill top. We stayed and meandered through the old fortezza, picking wild blackberries and figs, lingering just long enough for the bells of the monastery to call the young archeologists home, dusty and tired. We strolled through the lines of wine grapes, snapping pictures and stealing small snacks of juicy fruit.
By the time we got home, it was time for my roommate Caroline's birthday. We brought pizza and wine to the piazza il Campo and joined in with the humming populus of the sleepless Senese. Seriously. I don't think the Italians sleep. Ever. We called it a night around 2:30 (we had class the next morning at 11) and our Italian bartenders/friends (yes we're now friends with the bartenders....) wondered why we were going home so early? Was something wrong? They generally call it a night around 4-5am, yet somehow find a way to be up, talking loudly, opening garages, cleaning their streets and ringing their bells at 7am. That's the other thing. The bells. I think it's special only to Siena. Every hour (3 minutes before the hour), a series of bells go off from the tall belltowers of the three main churches, il Duomo, San Domenico, and San Francesco. Now, I say that they start 3 minutes before the hour. And I mean it. I also mean it when I say that the bells do not stop until at least 1 minute into the hour. Every hour. Every day. Eventually I'm sure I could get used to it, but for now, it's about the only source of irritation here for me. So naturally I focus most of my energies on hating the bells. Odio le campane. We learned that today in class.

Well I'm off to enjoy a free dinner at an abbey not far from here. More on that later